A timeless tale by the incomparable Kate DiCamillo, complete with stunning full-color plates by Bagram Ibatoulline, honors the enduring power of love.

"Someone will come for you, but first you must open your heart. . . ."

Once, in a house on Egypt Street, there lived a china rabbit named Edward Tulane. The rabbit was very pleased with himself, and for good reason: he was owned by a girl named Abilene, who treated him with the utmost care and adored him completely.

And then, one day, he was lost.

Kate DiCamillo takes us on an extraordinary journey, from the depths of the ocean to the net of a fisherman, from the top of a garbage heap to the fireside of a hoboes' camp, from the bedside of an ailing child to the bustling streets of Memphis. And along the way, we are shown a true miracle — that even a heart of the most breakable kind can learn to love, to lose, and to love again.

Look at me. You got your wish. I have learned how to love. And it 's a terrible thing. I'm broken. My heart is broken. Help me./ The heart breaks and breaks and lives by breaking. It is necessary to go through dark and deeper dark and not to turn.

How can a story end happily if there is no love?
All his life, Edward had known what he was: a rabbit made of china, a rabbit with bendable arms and legs and ears. He was bendable, though, only if he was in the hands of another. He could not move himself. And he had never regretted this more deeply than he did that night when he and Bull and Lucy were discovered in the empty railcar. Edward wan...

2014-02-25 12:233人喜欢

How can a story end happily if there is no love?

All his life, Edward had known what he was: a rabbit made of china, a rabbit with bendable arms and legs and ears. He was bendable, though, only if he was in the hands of another. He could not move himself. And he had never regretted this more deeply than he did that night when he and Bull and Lucy were discovered in the empty railcar. Edward wanted to be able to defend Lucy. But he could do nothing.
He could only lie there and wait.

I have been loved, Edward told the stars.
So? said the stars. What difference does that make when you are all alone now
Edward could think of no answer to that question.

Too late, thought Edward as Bryce climbed the pole and worked at the wires that were tied around his wrists. I am nothing but a hollow rabbit.
Too late, thought Edward as Bryce pulled the nails out of his ears. I am only a doll made of china.
But when the last nail was out and he fell forward into Bryce’s arms, the rabbit felt a rush of relief, and the feeling of relief was followed by one of joy.
Perhaps, he thought, it is not too late, after all, for me to be saved.

Edward felt a pang of sorrow, deep and sweet and familiar. Why did she have to be so far away?
If only I had wings, he thought, I could fly to her.

“I have already been loved,” said Edward. “I have been loved by a girl named Abilene. I have been loved by a fisherman and his wife and a hobo and his dog. I have been loved by a boy who played the harmonica and by a girl who died.
Don’t talk to me about love,” he said. “I have known love.”

Edward thought about everything that had happened to him in his short life.What kind of adventures would you have if you were in the world for a century?
The old doll said, “I wonder who will come for me this time. Someone will come.Someone always comes. Who will it be?”
“I don’t care if anyone comes for me,” said Edward.
“But that’s dreadful,” said the old doll. “There’s no point in going on if you feel that way. No point at all. You must be filled with expectancy. You must be awash in hope.You must wonder who will love you, whom you will love next.”
“I am done with being loved,” Edward told her. “I’m done with loving. It’s too painful.”

“You disappoint me,” said the old doll.
Her words made Edward think of Pellegrina: of warthogs and princesses, of listening and love, of spells and curses. What if there was somebody waiting to love him? What if there was somebody whom he would love again? Was it possible?
Edward felt his heart stir.
No, he told his heart. Not possible. Not possible.

“Open your heart,” she said gently. “Someone will come. Someone will
come for you. But first you must open your heart.”

“Look, Mama,” said Maggie, “look at him.”
“I see him,” said the woman.
She dropped the umbrella. She put her hand on the locket that hung around her neck.And Edward saw then that it was not a locket at all. It was a watch, a pocket watch.
It was his watch.
“Edward?” said Abilene.
Yes, said Edward.
“Edward,” she said again, certain this time.
Yes, said Edward, yes, yes, yes.
It’s me.

The sun was shining felt exhilarated.Who,having knowing him before,would have thought that he could be so happy now,crusted over with garbage,wearing a dress,held in the slobbery mouth of a dog and being chased by a mad man.
But he was happy.

2014-04-13 09:47

The sun was shining felt exhilarated.Who,having knowing him before,would have thought that he could be so happy now,crusted over with garbage,wearing a dress,held in the slobbery mouth of a dog and being chased by a mad man.
But he was happy.

Edward was inclined to agree with Ernest's assessment of the world being made of the garbage,especially after his second day at the dump,when a loaf of trash was deposited directly on top of him.He lay there,buried alive.He could not see the sky.He could not see the stars.He could see nothing.
What kept Edward going,what gave Edward hope,was thinking of how he would find Lolly and exact his rev...

2014-04-13 09:27

Edward was inclined to agree with Ernest's assessment of the world being made of the garbage,especially after his second day at the dump,when a loaf of trash was deposited directly on top of him.He lay there,buried alive.He could not see the sky.He could not see the stars.He could see nothing.
What kept Edward going,what gave Edward hope,was thinking of how he would find Lolly and exact his revenge.He would pick her up by her ears!He would bury her under a mountain of trash!
But after almost forty days and nights had passed,the weight and the smell of the garbage above and below him clouded Edward's thoughts, and soon he gave up thinking about revenge and gave in to despair.It was worse,much worse,the being buried at sea.It was worse because Edward was a different rabbit now.He couldn't say how he was different;he just new that he was.He remembered again,Pellegrina's story about the princess who had loved nobody.The witch turned her into a warthog because she loved nobody.He understood that now.
He heard Pellegrina say:"You disappoint me."Why?He asked her.Why do I disappoint you?
But he knew the answer to the question,too.It was because he had not loved Abilene enough.And now she was gone from him.And he would never be able to make it right.And Nellie and Lawrence were gone,too.He missed them terribly.He wanted to be them.
The rabbit wondered if that was love.

The heart breaks and breaks and lives by breaking.
It is necessary to go through dark and deeper dark and not to turn.
—— from “The Testing-Tree,” by Stanley Kunitz
But answer me this: how can a story end happily if there is no love?
Edward looked up at the stars. He started to say the names of the constellations, but then he stopped.
“Bull,” his heart said. “Lucy.”
How man...

2014-01-19 00:09

The heart breaks and breaks and lives by breaking.
It is necessary to go through dark and deeper dark and not to turn.
—— from “The Testing-Tree,” by Stanley Kunitz
But answer me this: how can a story end happily if there is no love?
Edward looked up at the stars. He started to say the names of the constellations, but then he stopped.
“Bull,” his heart said. “Lucy.”
How many times, Edward wondered, would he have to leave without getting the chance to say goodbye?
A lone cricket started up a song.
Edward listened.
Something deep inside him ached.
He wished that he could cry.
Day after day, the door to the shop opened and closed, letting in early morning sun or late afternoon light, lifting the hearts of the dolls inside, all of them thinking when the door swung wide that this time, this time, the person entering the shop would be the one who wanted them.
Edward was the lone contrarian. He prided himself on not hoping, on not allowing his heart to lift inside of him. He prided himself on keeping his heart silent, immobile, closed tight.
I am done with hope, thought Edward Tulane.
The old doll said, “I wonder who will come for me this time. Someone will come. Someone always comes. Who will it be?”
“I don’t care if anyone comes for me,” said Edward.
“But that’s dreadful,” said the old doll. “There’s no point in going on if you feel that way. No point at all. You must be filled with expectancy. You must be awash in hope. You must wonder who will love you, whom you will love next.”
“I am done with being loved,” Edward told her. “I’m done with loving. It’s too painful.”
“Pish,” said the old doll. “Where is your courage?”
“Somewhere else, I guess,” said Edward.
“You disappoint me,” she said. “You disappoint me greatly. If you have no intention of loving or being loved, then the whole journey is pointless. You might as well leap from this shelf right now and let yourself shatter into a million pieces. Get it over with. Get it all over with now.”
“I would leap if I was able,” said Edward.
“Shall I push you?” said the old doll.
“No, thank you,” Edward said to her. “Not that you could,” he muttered to himself.
“What’s that?”
“Nothing,” said Edward.
The dark in the doll shop was now complete. The old doll and Edward sat on their shelf and stared straight ahead.
“You disappoint me,” said the old doll.
Her words made Edward think of Pellegrina: of warthogs and princesses, of listening and love, of spells and curses. What if there was somebody waiting to love him? What if there was somebody whom he would love again? Was it possible?
Edward felt his heart stir.
No, he told his heart. Not possible. Not possible.
Next to Edward, the old doll let out a sigh. She seemed to sit up straighter. Lucius came and took her off the shelf and handed her to Natalie. And when they left, when the girl’s father opened the door for his daughter and the old doll, a bright shaft of early morning light came flooding in, and Edward heard quite clearly, as if she were still sitting next to him, the old doll’s voice.
“Open your heart,” she said gently. “Someone will come. Someone will come for you. But first you must open your heart.”
The door closed. The sunlight disappeared.
Someone will come.
Edward’s heart stirred. He thought, for the first time in a long time, of the house on Egypt Street and of Abilene winding his watch and then bending toward him and placing it on his left leg, saying: I will come home to you.
No, no, he told himself. Don’t believe it. Don’t let yourself believe it.
But it was too late.
Someone will come for you.
The china rabbit’s heart had begun, again, to open.